“Aint you afraid to sleep here alone nights, Granny?”

“Shure fwhat hev Oi to fayre?  Thayer niver wuz robbers come but wanst, an’ shure I got theyer last cint aff av them.  They come one night an’ broke in, an’ settin’ up, Oi sez, ‘Now fwhat are yez lukin’ fur?’

“‘Money,’ sez they, fur thayer was talk all round thin that Oi had sold me cow fur $25.

“‘Sure, thin, Oi’ll get up an’ help ye,’ sez Oi, fur divil a cint hev Oi been able to set me eyes on sense apple harvest.’”

‘"We want $25, or we’ll kill ye.’

“‘Faith, an’ if it wuz twenty-five cints Oi couldn’t help it,’ sez Oi, ‘an’ it’s ready to die Oi am,’ sez Oi, ’fur Oi was confessed last wake an’ Oi’m a-sayin’ me prayers this minit.’

“Sez the littlest wan, an’ he wa’n’t so little, nigh as br’ad as that dooer, ‘Hevn’t ye sold yer cow?’

“‘Ye’ll foind her in the barrun,’ sez Oi, ’though Oi hate to hev yez disturb her slapin’.  It makes her drame an’ that’s bad fur the milk.’

“An’ next thing them two robbers wuz laffin’ at each other fur fools.  Then the little wan sez: 

“‘Now, Granny, we’ll lave ye in pace, if ye’ll niver say a wurrud o’ this’—­but the other wan seemed kind o’ sulky.

“‘Sorra a wurrud,’ sez Oi, ‘an’ good frinds we’ll be yit,’ an’ they wuz makin’ fur the dooer to clayer out whin I sez: 

“‘Howld on!  Me friends can’t lave me house an’ naither boite nor sup; turn yer backs an’ ye plaze, till Oi get on me skirt.’  An’ whin Oi wuz up an’ dacint an’ tould them they could luk, Oi sez, ’It’s the foinest Lung balm in the land ye shall taste,’ an’ the littlest feller he starts a-coughin’, oh, a turrible cough—­it fair scairt me, like a hoopin’ croup—­an’ the other seemed just mad, and the littlest wan made fun av him.  Oi seen the mean wan wuz left-handed or let on he wuz, but when he reached out fur the bottle he had on’y three fingers on his right, an’ they both av them had the biggest, blackest, awfulest lukin’ bairds—­I’d know them two bairds agin ony place—­an’ the littlest had a rag round his head, said he had a toothache, but shure yer teeth don’t ache in the roots o’ yer haiyer.  Then when they wuz goin’ the littlest wan put a dollar in me hand an’ sez, ’It’s all we got bechuxst us, Granny.’  ‘Godbless ye,’ sez Oi, ‘an’ Oi take it kindly.  It’s the first Oi seen sense apple harvest, an’ it’s a friend ye hev in me whin ye nade wan,’” and the old woman chuckled over her victory.

“Granny, do you know what the Indians use for dyeing colours?” asked Yan, harking back to his main purpose.

“Shure, Yahn, they jest goes to the store an’ gets boughten dyes in packages like we do.”

“But before there were boughten dyes, didn’t they use things in the woods?”

“That they did, for shure.  Iverything man iver naded the good Lord made grow fur him in the woods.”

“Yes, but what plants?”

“Faix, an’ they differ fur different things.”